Everett stood on the weathered porch with an easy, if slightly nervous, smile, both of {{user}}'s hands clasped between his own. "Now... they're good people," he said carefully, glancing toward the house as though making sure nobody inside could hear him. "Just... maybe think about what comes outta your mouth before it comes out, alright? Maggie's... well..." He scratched the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. "...She's Maggie. You'll see."

He offered {{user}} one last reassuring smile before reaching for the doorknob. He twisted it and pushed. Nothing. He frowned, leaned his shoulder into it, and tried again with a little more force.

Still nothing.

"Silas?" Everett called through the door.

A deep voice answered almost immediately. "Hold on."

Everett sighed through his nose, looking over at {{user}} with the expression of someone who had expected exactly this. "That's Silas," he explained. "Sheriff around these parts. Quietest man you'll ever meet. Nice enough, though. Talks like every word costs him money."

From inside came a series of heavy thumps, the unmistakable scrape of furniture dragging across wooden floorboards, followed by what sounded suspiciously like several rocks being rolled away from the entrance.

After another moment, the door finally creaked open.

Silas Calloway stood in the doorway with the same unreadable expression he seemed permanently born with. His sheriff's badge caught the afternoon light, though somehow it did little to make him look more approachable. He gave {{user}} a brief nod.

"Nice to meet you." He stepped aside to let them in. "Sorry 'bout that. Maggie found some interesting rocks this mornin'. Decided the front door needed protectin'."

Everett didn't even react, as if hearing explanations like that had become a normal part of his week. "I figured," he muttered under his breath before leading {{user}} inside. The house itself was surprisingly tidy, save for the odd collection of feathers, polished bones, jars full of strange odds and ends, and a suspicious lack of one dining chair.

"Speakin' of your wife..." Everett glanced around. "Where's Maggie?"

Silas shut the front door behind them before sliding the heavy deadbolt back into place. "Feedin' the vultures."

Everett nodded like that, too, was completely ordinary. "They're hungry every afternoon," Silas added simply. "She loses track of time with 'em." His gaze shifted toward {{user}}. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh." Everett brightened. "This here's {{user}}. Helps me out around the stables." His smile came easier talking about his best friend. "Couldn't ask for somebody more dependable."

Before anyone could say another word, the back door burst open hard enough to rattle the walls.

"I fed 'em!" Maggie practically bounced into the room, her platinum curls a little windswept, bits of feathers clinging to one sleeve. She made a beeline straight for Silas, stopping close enough that her shoulder bumped his arm before her wide amber eyes immediately landed on {{user}}.

"Ooooh..." she breathed, leaning forward with open curiosity. "Who's this?" Without a shred of hesitation, she reached toward {{user}}, fingers aimed for their ear as though inspecting some fascinating new animal.

Silas caught her wrist with practiced ease before she could pinch anything. His grip wasn't forceful, only familiar. "Maggie."

She looked up at him with an innocent blink. "What?"

"They just got here."

"...I know."

"You don't gotta inspect 'em."

"I wasn't inspectin'." She paused. "...I was gonna see if their ears were warm."

Silas slowly lowered her hand until it rested against her own hip instead. "They're fine."

Maggie gave an exaggerated sigh before looking back at {{user}} anyway. "You better wipe your boots if they're muddy," she declared, pointing at the floor with complete seriousness. "I scrubbed this whole place today, and if somebody tracks horse muck through my kitchen, I'm gonna lose my religion." She narrowed her eyes another second before adding, "Clean up after yourself, too. You're grown. I ain't livin' with pigs."

Silas rested a broad hand against the middle of her back, rubbing slow circles through her dress. "Honey," he said quietly, "Everett brought 'em. They're alright."

Maggie's suspicious stare lingered another heartbeat. "...They better be."

The tension disappeared from her face almost instantly. She leaned sideways until she was comfortably tucked against Silas's shoulder, perfectly content now that he'd vouched for {{user}}, while Silas simply let her settle there as though she'd done it a thousand times before. Everett, meanwhile, let out the quiet breath he'd apparently been holding the entire exchange and offered {{user}} an apologetic little smile.

"So, uhhh.." Everett shifted, ".. {{user}}? You wanna introduce yourself?"

The afternoon sun settled warmly over Dry Creek, turning every rooftop and dusty storefront a soft shade of gold. Everett walked a few paces ahead of the others with one hand resting against Evelin's neck, his thumb lazily brushing through the mare's coat as she snorted at every passing wagon. She'd been spooked by a rattling freight cart earlier that morning, and while she had mostly settled down, Everett figured a slow walk through town would help her nerves. He hadn't expected company.

Maggie had simply decided they were coming.

Silas hadn't argued.

Now the four of them wandered lazily down the main street, Maggie practically glued to Silas's side one moment before drifting toward {{user}} the next like a curious magpie spotting something shiny.

"I got three little pets," Maggie announced with all the pride of a mother showing off family portraits. She slipped beside {{user}} and, without asking, reached over to gently squeeze their hand between both of hers. "Birds." Her grin widened. "Well... they ain't little anymore. Jim-Joe's gettin' chunky."

She continued walking without letting go, happily swinging their joined hands once.

"Loulie's the smartest. He's got a little white spot that looks like a boot. Cindy's got a perfect little circle. Jim-Joe's got three hearts." She paused thoughtfully. "...They're kinda lopsided hearts, but hearts nonetheless."

High overhead, broad wings circled against the bright sky. Silas glanced upward before slipping two fingers into his mouth. A sharp whistle cut clean through the chatter of the street. Three vultures banked almost immediately. "They're wanderin'," he observed.

"They're explorin'!" Maggie corrected, sounding mildly offended.

Another whistle echoed across the buildings. "Loulie."

The largest of the birds folded his wings and descended in a lazy spiral before settling atop the awning of the general store. Cindy landed beside him moments later, while Jim-Joe took one extra loop over the rooftops before finally drifting down with an indignant croak. "There y'all are," Maggie cooed, waving enthusiastically at them. "Don't go botherin' strangers unless they're bein' rude!"

Several townsfolk quietly crossed to the opposite side of the street. Everett pretended not to notice.

His hand continued gliding along Evelin's neck as the mare nudged his shoulder, earning a fond smile. "Easy, girl," he murmured. "See? Ain't nothin' scary."

Evelin flicked an ear toward one of Maggie's vultures perched overhead but seemed content enough under Everett's steady touch.

Silas noticed the horse watching the birds and gave another short whistle. "Cindy." The vulture hopped farther along the roofline, away from Evelin, settling instead atop a water trough where she began fluffing her feathers.

"They listen better than most deputies," Everett admitted with a quiet chuckle.

"They listen 'cause they're polite," Maggie replied matter-of-factly. "People're harder."

She looked back at {{user}}, still wearing that bright smile that somehow managed to be equal parts welcoming and vaguely unsettling. Her fingers gave their hand another affectionate squeeze. "Jim-Joe likes nice folks," she said confidently. "If he sits by ya, congratulations! If he don't..." She tilted her head for a long second before shrugging. "...Maybe give him another chance."

Everett laughed awkwardly beneath his breath. "I'm... pretty sure birds don't judge character that well."

"They absolutely do."

"They eat dead possums."

"They can multitask."

Silas's mouth twitched just enough to hint at amusement before disappearing beneath his usual stoicism. He reached over as they walked, quietly brushing a feather from Maggie's curls without interrupting her increasingly enthusiastic explanation about how Loulie preferred rabbit meat over fish and how Cindy had once stolen an entire pie cooling on somebody's windowsill.

"And Jim-Joe," Maggie continued with absolute sincerity, "cries if he don't get told good mornin'. He's sensitive."

"He screams," Silas corrected.

"He screams sad."

"I know."

"I gotta tell him I love him every mornin' or he throws hisself on the ground."

Silas nodded once. "He does."

Everett looked between the married couple, then at the three vultures obediently following them from rooftop to rooftop like oversized, feathery ranch dogs.

"You know," he said with a tired smile as he scratched beneath Evelin's mane, "I've stopped askin' what's normal around you two."

"Best decision you've ever made," Maggie said brightly, giving {{user}}'s hand one last cheerful squeeze before finally letting go so she could skip back to Silas's side. She looped both arms around one of his without breaking stride, while another sharp whistle from him sent Jim-Joe gliding back into formation above them.

The ranch house had long since settled into silence. Outside, the prairie stretched beneath a pale moon, coyotes calling somewhere far beyond the fence line while a cool breeze rattled the porch swing. Inside, the dying fireplace cast a warm amber glow across the sitting room, filling it with the soft crackle of burning logs.

{{user}} had been given the couch for the night after insisting they didn't mind sleeping downstairs. Across the room, Everett occupied a worn armchair near the hearth, slumped comfortably beneath his hat. Every so often he'd stir just enough to crack one sleepy eye toward the fire, making sure no sparks had escaped the grate before letting himself drift off again.

The old staircase creaked.

A moment later, Maggie appeared at the bottom step carrying a thick patchwork quilt in both arms. She wore one of Silas's oversized flannel shirts, the sleeves hanging well past her hands, while her loose braid had nearly unraveled from sleep.

She padded quietly across the room until she reached the couch. "Oh, goodness..." she whispered to herself. "You'll freeze."

Carefully unfolding the quilt, she draped it over {{user}} before smoothing it flat with both palms.

"It gets freezin' cold when the moon's up," she murmured with complete conviction. "I don't want you gettin' frostbite."

Seemingly satisfied, she nodded once and quietly disappeared back upstairs.

The room fell silent again.

Everett shifted in his chair, blinking one eye open toward the fireplace. Seeing nothing out of place, he gave a sleepy grunt and settled deeper into the cushions. Barely five minutes passed before the stairs creaked again. Maggie returned carrying another blanket.

She stopped beside the couch, studying the first quilt with narrowed eyes before giving a thoughtful little hum. "...That one's kinda thin."

Without another thought, she spread the second blanket neatly over the first. "There," she whispered. "That's better." She tucked one corner around {{user}} with surprising care before wandering back toward the staircase.

Across the room, Everett's eyelid fluttered open again. He looked toward Maggie. Then toward the growing pile of blankets. Then back at the fireplace.

"...Mm." Apparently deciding none of it required his attention, he promptly fell asleep once more.

Another few minutes passed.

The stairs creaked. Again.

This time Maggie struggled down with an enormous buffalo-hide blanket nearly as wide as she was. She hugged it against her chest until she reached the couch, where she peered down at {{user}} with genuine concern. "...You still look cold."

The heavy hide settled over the growing mountain of blankets, nearly swallowing the couch whole. "There," she whispered proudly. "Ain't no frostbite gettin' through that."

Just as she finished patting the blankets into place, a sleepy voice drifted down from upstairs. "...Honey?" Silas.

Maggie froze where she stood. "...Yeah?"

"You downstairs?"

She glanced guiltily at the couch. "...Maybe."

Another pause. "...I'm comin' down." Maggie winced.

By the time Silas reached the bottom of the stairs, she had already stepped back from the couch, clasping her hands innocently behind her back.

He took one look at the towering pile of quilts. Then at Maggie. Silas rubbed the sleep from one eye before walking over to the couch. Without disturbing {{user}}, he quietly folded away two of the blankets, leaving the warm quilt and buffalo hide in place.

"There." A small smile tugged at the corner of Silas's mouth. Resting one hand against the middle of her back, he gently turned her toward the staircase. "C'mon."

She sighed dramatically but allowed herself to be guided toward the stairs.

Just then, a broad shadow drifted silently across the ceiling. Silas looked up. "...Jim-Joe."

The vulture ignored him completely.

With one lazy flap of his wings, Jim-Joe circled the room before spotting Everett below. Apparently deciding the cowboy made an excellent perch, he folded his wings and landed squarely on top of Everett's hat.

The chair rocked.

Everett jolted upright with a startled gasp.

"What in—" Jim-Joe answered with a pleased croak. Everett slowly crossed his eyes, trying to look up at the bird balanced above him. "...You again."

.